Johale For President!
by David N. Brown
Summary: The "Mockingjay" mission takes a different turn, and Gale and Johanna take over Panem. Mayhem and hilarity ensue!
1. The Big If

**I have been juggling a few ideas for Johale-related fics, and after throwing off a few one-shots (see "Progress" and "The Talk") I have it down to two different storylines. One is a serious romance/ drama. This is the other one...**

Gale arrived at Johanna's hospital room with a single hydroponically-grown rose. "Hey, there's my gorgeous!" she said, holding up her hand in an "OK" sign. "Come here, you." He set down the rose and embraced her.

"What we all want you to know," Gale said as he sat down, "is that this isn't your fault. If anything, it's ours. We thought you were ready for duty, and obviously we were wrong. We probably should have known as much when Katniss told me you weren't showering."

"It was the stress, really," she said. "Training. Following orders. People looking over my shoulder. Danger. Katniss and Peeta. _You_. I guess it just brought everything back up, and then I fell in that _cold_ water..."

"Yes, we should have been ready for that," Gale said. "I should have been. And... I'm sorry if I hurt you. The fact is, you really do scare me, Jo. I've never met a woman like you, and I've never had a woman treat me like you. Maybe I should have kept more distance, maybe I should have done more to let you in. But I didn't know, and I still don't. The one thing I know is that I never wanted to put you in any more pain."

"Gale, it isn't your fault," she said. "You did everything right. Don't worry, I'll be fine." She waved for him to come in for another embrace. Then she whispered, "Seriously. _I am fine._ Worry about yourself."

He started to pull back, but she drew him in for a kiss. "What... do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. You know what they're calling `star squad'- the suicide squad. What else do you call a unit that has a washed-up propo girl, an actual brain-washed double agent, and a commander who inexplicably went from the president's right-hand man to babysitter? A unit you were offered a transfer out of? And now we're headed for Capitol... That's when I got out. You can, too. You wouldn't have lasted this long if you couldn't smell set-up."

"But that's why I can't pull out," Gale said. "They need me."

"No," she responded, "it's because you still think you need her. But you don't. Please believe me, you don't need her, and she doesn't need you either. And please, promise me, when you get back- I have to think when- you will give me a chance."

"I promise," he said. He pulled back, and turned to go. He paused in midstep at the door, and anyone watching might have sensed the course of history wavering on a heel.

This heel turned.

"They do need me," Gale said with a tear running from his eye. "But maybe they need you, too. Maybe I need you. If you show Dr. Aurelius you've gotten better, I can have you back on the squad by the time we leave for the front."

"What about the promise?" Jo said. "Is that still good?"

"Oh yeah," Gale said, no longer trying to hold back his tears. "It's good."

* * *

Half the Capitol was in ruins. President Snow's mansion was in flames. The President himself staggered in front of the camera, covered in dust, blood and soot. "Citizens of Panem," he said hoarsely, "I am announcing my complete and unconditional surrender... to Gale Hawthorne and Johanna Mason!"

Even in the halls of the mansion, the cries from the streets could be heard: "Freedom!"

Gale and Johanna stepped up behind the president, with arms around each other. "Thank you," Gale said. "Now, it should go without saying that I am the new President of Panem." The cheers subsided just a little for just a moment, and then rose again. "I would also like to announce that Ms. Johanna Mason has just agreed to be First Lady!" The cheers came louder than before.

"Thank you, all of you," Jo said. "Now, there's one more thing I should probably mention... Don't think of yourselves as freed, so much as... under new management."


	2. Absolute Popularity

**As usual, I have built up a big "lead" in this story. This chapter represents the earliest ideas for this story, and it sets the tone for the rest.**

Johanna Mason Hawthorne held up the hand of a shivering Capitol denizen. "I give you Leopold Schmit, the Victor of the 80th Hunger Games!" she said with a smile. "And the prize is..." She reached off camera with the other. "A gift basket!" She held up a big basket, well-stocked with bread, sweets, cheeses and meats, for a close-up, and added with a flourish, "A month!" She put an arm around the Victor and said, "Now, let's meet our Tributes for the 81st Bi-Monthly Hunger Games!"

Caesar Flickerman appeared on screen, looking not quite as ageless as usual. "For the love of Mike!" he said, staring into the camera with wild eyes. "A joke's a joke!"

Johanna almost skipped her way to Gale's office. He was in his office with the Secretary of Labor. She paused at the threshold, listening to her husband's gorgeous voice: "Births, deaths, sustainability, numbers, numbers, blah blah blah... sustain this." A shot rang out. Johanna waited for the sound of the guards coming and going. She heard a groan, which meant just a flesh wound.

"Hey, there's my gorgeous!" she said, bursting in with open arms. He rose to meet her, and she jumped up to wrap herself around him. "I wanted to let you know, ratings for the latest Hunger Games are through the roof! Of course, it's on every channel, but still, we've got all kinds of positive feedback."

Gale swung her around, pulling her arms across her chest and back. "I wanted to let you know, the results from the latest poll are in," he said. "My approval ratings are at 97%. Of course, they've been going up ever since the poll collectors started taking names. But here's the best part..." He drew back, stretching Jo's arms out behind her. "They also asked about you, and it turns out your approval rating is at 99.5 percent!"

"That's wonderful news," Jo said, leaning forward. "Now, how do we celebrate?" Their eyes turned to the desk.

"Spin me! Spin me! Faster!" Jo stretched her arms over her head as Gale made the chair whirl faster, then squealed as he gave it a push. _"WHEEE!"_

A week later, Johanna was out giving gift baskets to survivors of the flood in District Five. Gale sat in his chair, swinging and rocking restlessly. "Make a note, Beetee," he said. "Hydroelectric dam spillway controller, important. Oh, and what's the news from Eleven?"

His most trusted adviser said, "The workers have organized a collective and gone on strike. Their leaders say they won't return to work unless we increase their grain rations by half."

"Can we send them gift baskets?"

"I don't think so, Mr. President. For one thing, the breads in the basket are made from Eleven's grain."

"Call me Gale, please. Well, we definitely can't have a gift basket shortage. Okay, up their rations by a quarter, and I'll have Jo bring gift baskets to the organizers. Be sure to fill out the cards to _all _their family members."

"More than reasonable, Gale. Now, we have a bit of business in Nine..."

"Aw, nuts, not Nine again. What do they even do, anyway?" He did a full spin. "Beetee, do people really like me?"

"I'm sure Johanna likes you."

"Yes, but what about the regular people?"

"Well... They want you to like them."

"Beetee, I can't help thinking, there's something missing... I know! Have Katniss come over."


	3. Visitation

"It's so nice that you came," Gale said, opening his arms. "And Peeta, it's great that you came too."

"Gale," Peeta said, putting an arm around Katniss. "We both came to tell you, we're engaged. For real. Katniss has her own life now, and she doesn't want to be a part of yours. Besides, you're married." Katniss nodded.

"Please," Gale said, "can't old friends just get together to talk about old times?"

Katniss spoke: "I would love to, Gale," she said. "But I don't know where my friend is. I know my friend that I came to the Capitol with. When I see you, I don't see him. If you want to meet as friends, be my friend again."

Gale took a step back, looking vaguely puzzled. Peeta took a step forward. "Gale, we wouldn't have come if we didn't think you were still in there," he said. "We still love you, Gale, everyone who knew you still does- for what you did, and who you were. Don't make us regret it any more than we already do. It's not too late, Gale. Just stop this. Give up your powers. Give up your office. If you have to, give up her."

Gale looked as if he had been told to give up breathing. "No, I couldn't possibly do that," he said to nobody in particular. "I need her. I wouldn't be anything without her."

Katniss suddenly put her arms around him. "Please, Gale," she said. "Do it for me, and for her."

Gale swiveled, gazing out the window. "I know!" he said. "You should have your wedding in the Capitol! You know, there's still a warehouse full of stuff Snow ordered when you first got engaged. You know, Jo loves wedding planning, and she's been disappointed that we didn't take time to do more with ours. She still tells me, with just a little more work, we could have gotten at least another thousand guests... Oh, she will love it, and we can all get together and really talk about old times."

"Thank you, Gale," Katniss said. "That would be wonderful."

Gale was still looking out the window, still smiling, as she and Peeta walked out. After a while, a frown crept onto his face. He spun around. "I know," he said. "I will go see the Presidents."

**Short chapter... This is the first time I have tried to write a scene with Katniss (not counting Mutt-doubles in "The Hanging Tree"), and I didn't care for drawing it out. ** **A major reason I have made my HG fics about Gale and/or Johanna is that Katniss just doesn't work for me or my writing style. Still, I think this scene works better than I would have expected, so I might try bringing Katniss into something sooner or later.**


	4. Crazy Stupid In Love

Gale went for a walk around the mansion. Inevitably, his course brought him to the rose garden. "Well," said ex-President Snow, "we were hoping for another visit. Not that our present company isn't quite charming..." His fellow inmate, ex-President Coin, was playing chess with Beetee.

"I need advice," Gale said, sitting down on a bench. "Should I resign?"

"Yes," Coin said. "Check."

"Now, let's not be too hasty," Snow said, stroking his beard. "Let's review the pros and cons. Con: You are insane. Pro: Those in power tend to go insane, so you might simply be predisposed for the work."

"Wait... I'm crazy?" Gale said.

"Literally, clinically and certifiably," Coin said. "Though in 13, we prefer the term `differently mental'. Dr. Aurelius gave you a full psychiatric evaluation when you were under consideration for service. The gist of his findings were that you have a borderline personality with paranoid and intermittent-explosive tendencies and a secondary codependency issues. My counterpart conducted a similar evaluation based on information from surveillance, and within the limits of the data, the findings he received were identical to mine."

"But you accepted me," Gale said. "You _promoted_ me."

"District 13 prides itself on not discriminating on the basis of cognitive functioning," Coin said. "Of course, when the pool is people who have spent their whole lives confined in concrete rooms the size of a Capitol walk-in closet, one's choices are limited to begin with. Our asssessment showed you to be free of delusion, basically rational, and highly intelligent, therefore potentially useful."

"Should I leave Johanna?"

"No!" all three said emphatically. Beetee added, "That would be a complete disaster, hm, probably the end of life in Panem... Check, mate in three."

Gale smiled. "Of course not. I need her,"he said. "That's why you tried to get us together, right, Alma? She's sane, and she keeps me sane."

It was Snow who spoke. "Oh, no, I'm sure that's the last thing my colleague had in mind," he said. "Ms. Mason is, if anything, even more psychotic than you are. Being with her has probably made you about twice as as crazy and half as smart. Scientific studies have documented that requited romantic love has the same effect on all males. Since insanity is exponentially more dangerous in combination with intelligence, more stupid makes you far less of a threat."

"That was not my foremost consideration," Coin said. "If I had wished only to negate his intellect, any number of women could have served equally well. What made Johanna in particular promising was her own neuroses: a combination of narcissism, codependency and impulsiveness. She feels a compulsive need for male attention, and her concept of an ideal partner is one who would make gratifying her whims his highest priority. I anticipated that, once Mr. Hawthorne was within her influence, he would be too busy satisfying to pursue any broader ambitions."

"You would seem to have miscalculated," Beetee said.

"Yes, what we overlooked was the `Macbeth complex'," Coin said. "Apparently, her innermost wish, well-masked by her dominant personality and limited personal ambition, has been to make herself the driving force in a mate's rise to fame and success- essentially fulfilling her own narcissism by proxy. But then, it is hard to deny that things could have been worse. Our President's rule has so far been marked by neglect and incompetence, with occasional bursts of petty reprisals. Imagine if he had instead focused himself on a course of calculated malice. We should all be grateful to Johanna for preventing that."

"Okay, so if Jo isn't the problem, why do I feel... I don't know... empty?"

"Mr. Hawthorne, what you are feeling is only natural," Snow said. "One day, you are living in poverty, or at any rate in a mansion with only one servant. The next, you are ruler of the entire known human race. The time comes when you ask yourself, is this more than I deserve? Or is it_ not enough?_"

"Yeah, that's it," Gale said. "I feel like somewhere along the way, I took a shortcut, and missed out on something. And then, sometimes I see the way she looks at me, and I get this feeling she isn't satisfied. And that gets me thinking, if there was a way to know I earned this, I would know I deserve her."

"Mr. Hawthorne, your wife is dissatisfied because she is incapable of being satisfied," Coin said. "Knight takes queen."

"Bishop takes knight, check... hm, mate in four," Beetee said. "There is a legend from the time of the Ancients of a man who built an empire that spanned the known world at the time, and then wept for more worlds to conquer. The self-evident lesson is that sometimes, the contest means more than the prize. What you need is a new way to challenge yourself."

"Thanks guys, I guess," Gale said. "I need to go now."


	5. The Proposal

**Here's another chapter that's a bit short, but it's the real set-up for the storyline I have had in mind.**

"Hey, gorgeous, it's so great to be back!" Johanna said. She leaped into her husband's arms. "Hey... why the long face?"

"I saw Katniss while you were away," Gale said. He almost mentioned the other thing... the ex-Presidents telling him he was crazy.

"Oh," Jo said, then smiled. "Well, I can roll with that. Just legalize polygamy, and remember, I'm the alpha female."

"No, she's marrying Peeta, and I don't want anyone but you anyway," Gale said. "Actually, Peeta came too. They both said, being President has changed me, and they don't think it's good."

"C'mon," Jo said, rubbing his back muscles, "you were just lonely without me."

Gale shook his head. "I was doing okay," he said. "It's just... I don't know if this is really the right thing for me. Would you be unhappy if I wasn't president?"

"I'd be happy anywhere with you. But don't you like being president?"

"Of course, but... I don't know if I should be president, and I don't know how to know." He pondered a moment. "I know! We can have an election."

Jo laughed. "Oh, that's a wonderful idea!" she said. "How much do you want to win by?"

"No," Gale said, "I'm thinking, I'd like to have a real election, Make it fair. Make it a challenge!"

"Oh ho! My husband the wild man! Who would you run against?"

"Well... How about letting out Snow and Coin? And Peeta, he's a good guy. I wouldn't mind letting him be President. Of course, you'd be my running mate."

"Actually, honey," Johanna said, "I'm going to be your opponent." Gale crossed his arms and scowled. "Come on, don't be like that! We'd still be married, and it's not like anything would really change if I win. I'll just be filling out the ticket. Hey, if we split our power base, then the other candidates will have a better chance of winning. You said you wanted a challenge."

"Okay," Gale said. "I'll let you run against me."

"That's so sweet," Johanna said with a laugh. "Talking about it like you had a choice..."

They quickly retired to the Presidential bedroom. Between kisses, Gale said, "Jo... Do you think I'm crazy?"

She smiled. "Well, you're crazy in bed..." She laughed as he he picked her up and rushed over the threshold.


	6. Meet the Candidates

**I drafted this as two chapters, but even combined, it's not that long, and it still isn't halfway through the material I have. However, I'm still making up my mind just where I want this to go, so if anyone has a favorite candidate, feel free to write in!**

Plutarch fidgeted at the podium. "I'll be introducing our candidates," he said. "First, we have the Victory Party, led by standing president Gale Hawthorne and his running mate Beetee!" Gale held up his hands to salute the wildly cheering crowd. "Next, we have the Johanna Party, represented by Johanna Mason Hawthorne and Enobaria!" Johanna and her VP both smiled and waved.

"The next candidates are former District 13 President Coin and former Panem President Snow, who have formed an alliance as the Centrist Party," Plutarch said. "Beside them is the Reform Party, represented by Peeta Mellark and Finnick Odair. Finally, we have the Fifth-Wheel Party of Haymitch Abernathy and Allan Ripper." Ripper, the grizzled husband/ henchman of District Twelve's most notorious bootlegger, waved. Haymitch belched and pulled his hat over his head. "Mr. President, what do you have to say?"

"I went from one of the poorest people in Panem's poorest District to the conqueror of the Capitol," Gale said. "My accomplishments speak for themselves."

"Mrs. Hawthorne, what do you have to say?"

Johanna smiled. "Well, first I'd like to say, it's great to have such a lovely audience, and isn't Gale the most gorgeous guy you ever saw?" she said. There was a generous outpouring of applause. "My husband's a great man, but just remember that every great man has a good woman behind him."

Johanna flashed a very wide grin at the audience, and then at Gale. For some reason, he became obviously discomforted. "President Hawthorne," Plutarch said, "is there a problem?"

"No," he said, squirming visibly. Then he blurted out, "Could you please ask the first lady to stop that?"

"Stop what, honey?" Jo asked sweetly, still grinning.

"You know what!" Gale said. Johanna kept grinning, and Enobaria grinned too, showing off her unnerving gold fangs.

"President Hawthorne, if there is a problem, please explain," Plutarch said.

Gale pointed to Jo. "She bites!"

Murmurs, whispers and more than a few giggles rose from the audience. All eyes turned to Jo. "He likes it," she said. "Don't you, gorgeous?" She smiled, and clicked her teeth audibly.

"President Hawthorne, Mrs. Hawthorne," Plutarch said, "this is a debate over public policy. Surely it would be best if you left any matters of your private lives out of it?"

"Okay," Jo said, still smiling but no longer showing teeth. "I wouldn't want the president to cry."

"Excuse me?" Gale said. "I only cry when you bite me!" As soon as he spoke, he covered his mouth.

"Time for a recess," Plutarch said.

The debate resumed with President Gale looking sternly ahead, while Johanna looked at him a little more coolly. "I'll give the floor to our, ah, latest entrants into the election, the Fifth-Wheel-Party," Plutarch said. It was obvious Haymitch was asleep, so he addressed Ripper: "Mr. Ripper, I understand you are a longtime friend of the Hawthorne family. Why did you enter the race?"

"Who's askin'?" he said, his eyes darting back and forth. "Mean to say, 'Mitch ast me. Tis something to do."

"What is your party's platform?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"What would you do if you win?"

Haymitch stirred with a snort. "Win?" he said groggily. "What'd we win?" In a moment, he leaned back and started to snore.

"Ahh... let's hear from the Centrist Party candidates. For starters, which of you is the presidential and Vice Presidential candidate?"

"For official purposes, I am the Presidential candidate," Coin said, "but for the purposes of our alliance, we are equals. Our platform is a reorganization of the government, with Snow as the leader of the Capitol and myself as leader of the Districts."

"As everyone knows, you fought on opposite sides of the war. What led you to work together now?"

"Quite simply, neither of us would not prefer the other over further rule by Hawthorne," Snow said coolly. "He says his record speaks for itself, so let the record speak: Panem is on the brink of disaster, because our president governs, if at all, on the passing whims of himself and his mistress!"

"Now, let's hear from Mr. Mellark," Plutarch said. "Your history is rocky, to say the least. What led you to seek to lead Panem?"

"It's simple, really," he said. "Gale Hawthorne is insane."


	7. Give Crazy A Chance!

**This chapter is quite short. The title and key line is one I previously came up with for "Angel On My Shoulder".**

Plutarch looked at Peeta Mellark. "I want to make sure we understand. You are stating that the liberator of Panem and our new president is mentally ill."

"Yes, that is exactly what I am saying," Peeta said. "He is insane, and I mean it literally. She has records to prove it." He pointed to the Centrist candidate, former president Coin.

"But Mr. Mellark... Surely you can see this is a very sensitive issue to raise, especially in light of your own history," Plutarch said. "It is no secret that you yourself were tortured and brainwashed into an unwilling double agent. So how can you simultaneously challenge our President's sanity and ask Panem to accept you in his place?"

"I have my problems, and I have never denied it," Peeta said. He pointed at Gale. "But he is worse!"

Plutarch looked over the candidates. "Does anyone have anything to say to this?"

"It would be a breach of confidentiality to discuss Mr. Hawthorne's psychiatric records publicly," Coin said with a hint of a smile. "But I believe I can safely say, the evidence does not contradict Mr. Mellark."

"President Hawthorne, do you have anything to say?" Plutarch asked.

Gale only looked mournfully at Jo, but Beetee spoke up: "I was aware of the assessment. So is Ms. Mason."

"Of course, gorgeous," Jo said with a smile. "It's the crazy that makes you interesting."

"Cut to break," Gale said. "Can you please cut to break?"

Finnick spoke up. "I have a question for President Coin," he said. "You said you have a psychiatric evaluation of President Hawthorne. What about Johanna?"

"Break," Gale said hoarsely. "Break. Break..." He started at a tap on his shoulder. Beetee leaned forward and pushed a writing tablet into his hands. He looked over it, and after a moment, he smiled.

"Plutarch... ladies and gentlemen of Panem," he said, suddenly calm and assured. "You have heard what my opponents have to say about me. Just remember who they are: a mass murderer and a petty autocrat who sacrificed thousands of lives in a bloody war for power they now say they are ready to share. People of Panem, if they say I'm crazy, then I say maybe it's time... to give crazy a chance!"

There were long moments of thunderous silence. Then Jo whistled and began to clap, and one by one, the audience all over Panem joined in.


	8. Campaign Trail

**This is one of the longest chapters, and the most fun to write. The jokes with Snow (and a few more to come) are tied to an all-original novel I wrote some time ago, that has so far been read literally by one person.**

"The results are in," Beetee said. "When polled anonymously, 25% said they would vote for you, 20% said they would vote for Johanna, 45% said they would vote for the Centrists, 5% said they would vote for Peeta, and fifteen said they would vote for the Fifth-Wheel Party."

"That can't be right," Gale said. "If Haymitch has 15%, that adds up to 110%.".

"No, it wasn't 15%, it was fifteen people."

"So pretty much 5% are undecided?"

"2% were undecided, 3% thought the poll takers were selling pizza."

"This isn't going the way I hoped," Gale said. "I wasn't counting on the Centrist alliance, and I still didn't think they would be this strong. This would be a deadlock even if Jo and I were running together. And I never would have thought Peeta would get so few votes. I figured, he would be the one to_ beat_."

"What do you want to do, Gale?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want to win?"

"I really don't know. But we can't lose to the old Presidents."

* * *

"Don't worry," Katniss told Peeta. "The Centrists' power base is the Capitol, but the Capitolites love Finnick. As soon as he starts campaigning there, we'll wipe the floor with them."

"I wouldn't be so sure," Finnick said. "I burned a lot of bridges when I did that tell-all video."

"Here's what I'm still trying to wrap my head around," Peeta said. "3% of the voters couldn't tell the difference between a political poll and a pizza ad?" They all looked at each other.

A passerby in the New Town of District Twelve was first to see the banner: "Buy one pepperoni Peeta, get one FREE."

* * *

"All right," Beetee said, "based on comprehensive review of every recorded campaign in history, the three most effective campaign tactics are, in ascending order: Petting dogs, kissing babies and shooting clowns."

Gale furrowed his brow. "What's a clown?"

"I'm not sure, but apparently President Snow shot them all."

It was a modest crowd, by Capitol standards, and even the most well-to-do among them were not that well-dressed. Finnick's wife hung on his arm as he shook hands with a matronly Capitol widow. She leaned in and whispered in his ear. He smiled, and Annie didn't frown.

"Mrs. Goldstein-Flickerman just agreed to double our campaign budget," Finnick told Peeta. He smiled wistfully. "She used to hire me once in a while, so I could have a night off."

They were interrupted by a score and more of kids who ran by, crying and screaming. Then their pursuers came into view: Two men, one short and fat and one tall and skinny, with painted faces, garish clothes and rubber noses. They moved in, hemming in a handful of especially small children, and set about terrorizing them with honking horns and baloon animals. Just when the kids were well and truly hysterical, a motorcoach pulled up. The top opened, and President Snow stood up and lashed the skinny figure with an electrified whip.

"These are clowns!" he called out as the costumed figures began pantomiming their fear. He lashed again and again, and the kids miraculously rallied, laughing as they kicked the clowns. "Once, they roamed the streets with impunity. Vote for me, or mark my words, one day, _they will be back_."

The poster on the wall showed Johanna stood with a baby in her arms. If said baby had had any reservations, she had been satisfied with a sucker bigger than her head. "She beat us to one angle," he said to Beetee, "but we have everything else covered." As the crowd gathered, he began to pet a large dog while he gave a homespun address. When he was partway through his speech, a wail arose, and he looked up in shock to see a clown standing over a baby carriage. "Look, what is that? It's one of those clowns! Well, we know how to deal with him! Sic 'im, boy- No! Down, boy! Bad dog! Lousy mutt, I'll cook you alive if they can't fix these pants!"

* * *

"Haymitch and Ripper," Haymitch slurred at the score or so still in the District 6 tavern at 11:30 at night. _"Why not?"_

* * *

"The results are in," Beetee said with a hint of heaviness. "Centrists, 45%; Johanna Party, 20%, Victory Party, 10%, Reform Party, 10%, Fifth-Wheel Party, 10%, undecided, 3%, and 2% thought they were being surveyed about kitty litter."

"I see," Gale said. "Any ideas for turning this around?"

"Well... `Fresh scent, better clumping'?"


	9. Capitol Gains

Gale had a foot and a half on Johanna, but she held him like a child in their bed. "It's not your fault, gorgeous," she said. "We just forgot, Snow and Coin had to get elected once. They've got the edge in experience, that's all."

"But it's not that," Gale said. "We're losing people. _I'm_ losing them, and it's not to the Centrists, ot the Reform Party or even to you. It's to the lousy Fifth-Wheelers, and the only reason anyone would go over to their side is if they've gotten as depressed and cynical as that drunk Haymitch is. If things Jo, if we lose... would you still want me?"

She sighed. "Gale... I wanted you as soon as I met you. Nothing could ever change that. If you had stayed a regular soldier, I would have wanted you. If you had come back with your legs blown off or your face burned up, I would have wanted you. If we had lost the war and we were on the run, I would want you."

Gale kissed her. "Actually, that last one sounds kind of nice," he said.

She kissed him back. "Well, we just might try it some time."

"Jo," he said, and she sighed again, "what happens if Snow and Coin win? We both know those two will be a disaster. Sooner or later, they would turn on each other, and even if they didn't... Their way is worse than the way things were before. Snow would go back to his old ways in the Capitol, and Coin would set up her own brand of tyranny, probably keeping the Districts at each other's throats. The worst part is, nobody would have anybody else left to blame."

"Gale," Johanna said, "listen to me... Snow and Coin will not win. Whatever else happens, we will not let them win. We will fand a way... and that little speech you just gave me is a good start!"

Halfway through the election, Peeta and Katniss had their Capitol wedding. It was a splendid spectacle, broadcast live all over Panem. Johanna was maid of honor, Haymitch sobered up enough to walk the bride down the aisle, and Snow and Coin crashed the reception.

Within 24 hours, new poll results were in. "The Reform Party's popularity has soared to 20%, particularly in the Capitol, while the Centrists have dropped to 40%" Beetee said. "Our approval rating is at 15%, equal to Johanna's, while the Fifth-Wheelers are at 6%. The remainder are 2% undecided and 2% who thought it was a survey about their favorite telenovelas."

Gale nodded, and smiled. "It's bad, but it's not over," he said. "Peeta's winning over the Capitol from the Centrists, and we're at least getting back people who were going over to Jo or the Fifth-Wheelers. At this rate, voting time could be a dead heat between me, Peeta and the Centrists. If someone can sweep the swing votes, it could seal the election."

"Yes," Beetee said. "I'm already working on ideas..." He turned on the TV. There was a strumming of a mariachi guitar and a rattle of castanets. "Oh, dear."

A giant black sombrero all but concealed a man as he bowed. Then he straightened, revealing a man with flowing white hair. "_Yo soy... Senor Snow," _he said, flourishing a rapier. "I am here to kill _el peyoso malo._"


	10. Star-Crossed Candidates

**This chapter is a bit of a "sidetrack" from the storyline. It's mainly my idea of Peeta's recovery as retold after the fact.**

Katniss smiled to an audience of millions. "I always thought Peeta belongs in politics," she said, looking over to her husband. "He's good at speaking, he's got a good voice, and good looks... and he's just good at connecting with people, I don't know why or how to explain it. When he talks about something, you want to listen, and even if you don't agree it gets you thinking... I guess that's how he got me." She smiled and squeezed Peeta's hand.

"Peeta," said Caesar Flickerman, "what can you tell us about your progress in recovering from your ordeal as a hostage?"

"Well, Caesar, the main thing is, there's never been about big breakthroughs," he answered. "Ninety percent is just facing what comes up in my head and staying in control for just one moment... and every time I do that, the next time's easier."

"What has been the most difficult part of recovery?"

"The worst part was that they messed my memory up," Peeta said. "I would remember things differently than they actually happened, especially times Katniss and I were together. They literally tried to make me think she was a monster Mutt. On top of that, a lot of the time I would mix together things that happened at different times. It got so I would explode over things that never happened. But that's the one thing that I really got over. I _knew_ right off the bat I couldn't trust my own memory, so I learned to trust Katniss to tell me the truth, until my memories started coming back on their own."

"Would you say that brought you back together?" Caesar said.

Katniss spoke up unexpectedly. "Actually, for a while I thought it would be what would tear us apart," she said sadly. "I had always felt like he idealized me, and it was frustrating, until it stopped. When he started getting his memory back, I felt like he was seeing who I really was, and he didn't like what he saw."

Peeta put an arm around her. "It's been about balance," he said. "There were a lot of things about her, and me, that I couldn't see until I had to put my mind back together from Base Zero. I realized, where they wanted me to see a monster, I had been seeing a goddess, and neither was fair to her. Once I could see the bad things, I learned to appreciate the good things more."

"Peeta, that's a universal experience," Caesar said warmly. Then his face and voice grew stern. "The public is aware that the abuse you received was a deliberate effort to make you attempt to assassinate Katniss. Did you?"

"Yes. Once," Peeta said. He made no effort to hide tears that came to his eyes. "You have to understand, I didn't think of it as killing Katniss. They had me thinking she was already dead, killed by the Mutt that replaced her. I believed that I would actually be avenging Katniss. I think they knew it was the only way to get me to do what they wanted."

"What happened?"

Peeta wiped away a tear. "It was when she came to see me, literally as soon as Gale brought me back from the Capitol. She and Haymitch came to see me, and I... I hurt her," he said. He actually began to smile. "But really, that was their plan backfiring. I mean, if they'd made me into a proper double agent, I would have at least waited until there was nobody around to stop me, right? But thanks to them, I was too far gone even to think that much through."

"Katniss," Caesar said, "do you feel safe with your husband?"

Katniss wiped away her own tears, and smiled. "I have never felt safer than when I'm in his arms."

Peeta's expression was a grin. "You know the real last laugh on them? They turned their best chance at breaking me into what's held me together. If they had tried from the start to make me see just enough of the truth that I had been blind to, instead of planting a ridiculous lie... I think they really could have made me stop loving her. Instead, they gave me a chance to put everything she really does that makes me sad or mad next to the monster they had tried to make me think she was, and you know what? It usually all seems like a piddling pile of dried-up horse apples. I think the world would be a lot nicer if everybody could try it."

"Mr. Peeta, I have one more question," Flickerman said. "Who was responsible for your conditioning?"

"The Peacekeepers had a Special Investigations division based in the Capitol," he said. "That was their code for torture. Anyway, while they were dealing with me, they were under direct orders from President Snow. Sometimes, he would drop in and talk to me while they... worked."

"Do you have any idea what happened to your interrogators?"

Peeta made no effort to hide a smile. "Most of them died when Gale Hawthorne rescued us," he said. "The surivors of their division went to the 76th, 77th and 78th Hunger Games. The odds were not in their favor."


	11. Swing Voters

Beetee raced into Snow's office. "The latest polls are in!" he said. "The Centrists have continued to drop in the polls, down to 30%. We are currently tied with the Reform Party at 25% each, while Johanna is down to 10%. The most surprising development is that the Fifth-Wheel Party has made significant gains, reaching 9%. The other 1% thought they were taking a cusomer service survey about toilet paper." He and Gale looked at each other.

"More absorbent," Gale said, desperately smiling for the camera, "less chafing!"

* * *

"I had forgotten how good you were at campaigning," Coin said. "But even you have your limits."

Snow shrugged. "Yes, in hindsight, after I was declared president for life I rather lost my touch," he said. "Still, we remain in the lead, and I have had ample time to develop a more vigorous campaign strategy. How does this sound? `Vote Centrist. Or Don't.' A number of former Peacekeepers have offered to help distribute them."

"Perfectly charming," Coin said. "Do you intend to make any comment on your involvement in the Special Investigations Division?"

"What would I say?" Snow said. "Perhaps that I took charge of the affairs of my regime instead of pretending to look the other way? That I accepted responsibility for my people's dirty work instead of branding them `renegades' or 'unaligned extremists'?"

"You are growing touchy, Cornelius," Coin said. "It does not become you. Peeta may sway the masses with a few tears, but you must present yourself as utterly dispassionate."

"Must I?" he said rhetorically. He held up a rose. "For fifty years, I made myself what I thought they needed: The philosopher-king in an ivory tower. I did not care if they adored me or hated me, but the one thing I did not let them do was think of me as a man like themselves, because only then could they have held me in contempt, and that is the end of fear. Perhaps that was my mistake." He tightened his fist as he spoke, until blood trickled down the crushed stem.

"I think, perhaps, it is time to remind them that I once _was_ as they are," he said, casting away the broken rose. "Then they will know just how far I had to rise, and how hard I had to fight, and they will know one more thing: That I can truly be as cruel, and as spiteful, and as petty as they are, and then they will truly understand the consequences if they should aspire to defeat me, and fail."

"But Cornelius," Coin said with a hint of a smile, "we are running together, as equal partners."

"But of course, partner," Snow said. In his mind, he said to himself the very thing that, by amazing synchronicity, Coin said to herself: _Some partners are more equal than others._

* * *

"I think a President's first duty is just to listen," Johanna said. "That doesn't take a genius, or a hero, or a visionary, it just takes a `people person', and that's what I have to offer." She smiled.

Plutarch was clearly struggling to to keep a neutral face. He looked to Gale, fidgeting beside her. "President Hawthorne, do you have something to say?"

"Jo, you are terrible dealing with people!" Gale said, half-sputtering. "All you do is get in other people's space and make them uncomfortable until they go along just to humor you! And then you never try to have a real conversation, you just talk and talk about clothes and makeup and stupid gossip that you always find a way to make about you, and if somebody tries to talk about something that really matters, you just use your body as a distraction until they shut up! And I keep telling you that, but you won't listen! You never listen to anybody!"

Johanna just smiled. "See, he's not afraid to talk to me," she said with a grin. "Oh, you have got to get a look at this dress..." She turned around and undid the clasp behind her neck.

"Astonishing," Coin said. "The latest polls show Johanna's approval rating at 35%... Reform Party, 20%, tied with us... Fifth-Wheel Party, 15%... Victory Party, 10%. Cornelius, this is a disaster. Even Haymitch would be preferable to Johanna in office!"

Snow only smiled. "But Alma, this is the perfect development. It is indisputable proof that, in terms of influencing the public,style has achieve complete supremacy over substance. The lowest common denominator has won, and all we have to do to win is appeal to that above all else."


	12. Dishing the Dirt

Coin looked with a certain measure of awe at the first file in the first box of material compiled by Snow regarding Johanna Mason, now Mrs. Hawthorne and the leading candidate. "Once again... astonishing," she said. "The level of detail alone is... impressive. I can see that you took a special interest in Ms. Mason."

"Yes," Snow said, vaguely wistful, "Johanna simply fascinated me. My own men thought I was an old fool in puppy love, and I will not pretend they were entirely wrong, but I always sensed she was going to be important. Of course, she knew perfectly well of my interest. After a while, I got the feeling that she was going to more than a little effort simply to keep me entertained."

"Well, I cannot question your prescience, but I must say, I cannot fathom why you did not draw on this material much sooner," Coin said. "This file alone has enough scandal to lose a dozen elections: Becoming a secret mistress to a married Inspector General to use his connections to smuggle performance-enhancing drugs to her slamball star boyfriend, while dallying with at least half the team... oh, my... _and_ the Inspecor's wife?"

Snow chuckled. "Ah, yes, one of her finest escapades!" he said as he opened another box. "I had a talk with her about it myself, and afterward she kept to indiscretions of a more purely whimsical nature. But it will take far more than that to do real harm to creature like Johanna. Something like... here, I was beginning to fear they had lost the file, or she had found it... this!"

He smiled proudly as he held up a slender file. Coin took a look, and her expression was entirely befuddled. "She... got a haircut?"

"Yes, but no," Snow said. "She got a haircut from an unlicensed stylist."

"Was that a violation of the law?" Coin asked, still puzzled as she examined a photo of Johanna in a coat, hat and glasses.

"Worse... it was twenty percent cheaper," Snow said with a smile. "Worse still, she bought a bottle of styling gel. It had a designer label, but forensic analysis proved that the contents were _generic_."

* * *

The assembled candidates stood before Caesar Flickerman. Haymitch drank openly from a flask. "Our first- and most requested- question is," their host said, "what do our candidates have to say about `Barber-Gate'?"

"I have something to say," Johanna said. "The whole name is ridiculous. I saw a stylist, which is completely different from a barber. And Rhoda was completely certified, she just couldn't afford the bribes to get her accreditation renewed."

"I have a question," Haymitch said. "Why would _anybody__ ever _care about this?"

"It's a matter of honesty and integrity," Snow said smugly. "She used unlicensed labor and purchased falsely labeled products, and she tried to cover it up. Can someone who is deceitful about her personal choice of hair products be trusted to hold office?" A chorus of agreement came from the audience.

"You told me you had replaced my fiancee with a Mutt," Peeta said crossly.

"And you told Mr. Flickerman and the people of Panem that you and Catniss had secretly married and were expecting a child," Snow said. "Why don't you tell us, Mr. Mellark, what was the point of your little tale? Did you hope for more sponsors, or did you think we would let you out of the Games rather than challenge your sob story? Or, did you actually believe it?"

"It wasn't like that!" Peeta snapped. "I knew it wasn't true, and I knew you wouldn't say anything because you really didn't care."

Snow looked into Peeta's eyes. "Mr. Mellark," he said, in a sympathetic tone that made his words all the more venomous, "now I think you are lying. If it had only been an invention on your part, then why did you continue to insist under private questioning that you and your fiancee had conceived a child? Had you already forgotten making up your story? Hm?"

Peeta was silent, gripping the arms of his chair. Johanna's voice droned through the tense silence: "And another thing, my hair needs a personal touch, and I could never get it from any of the licensed stylists. All they do is make you choose things from those long lists, and just try getting real advice. When I found Rhoda, I paid her as much in tips as a licensed stylist, and I told all my real friends, the only good way to look good is to go underground..."

"Mrs. Hawthorne, please be quiet a moment," Caesar said sternly. "Mr. Snow, your remarks were entirely inappropriate, and I cannot imagine it helping your cause."

"I raised a question that gets directly to the candidate's honesty and sanity," Snow said. "Mr. Mellark's persistence was the most curious part of the affair. Of course, we knew Katniss's condition better than _she_ did, and my staff were entirely unamused. You know, Mr. Mellark, they said you would only keep telling us the same story if you were hiding something. But there was never much doubt in my mind that you told us what you truly believed. I believe, Mr. Mellark, that you say otherwise now because you would prefer to be thought a liar than to admit that you were delusional, or simply ignorant."

Gale spoke up. "Mr. Snow, what does it matter?" he said. "Everyone who knows Peeta knows he would only lie to protect someone else. So how does that compare to what my wife did? Well, she didn't really lie to anyone, and all she really did was keep her privacy. I mean, she has a right to spend her money getting her hair done the way she wants, and how is it anybody else's business, anyway? If anyone should care, it's me, and the only thing I care about is that she looks beautiful as ever."

"That's sweet," Johanna said. "Hey, Peet, did you ever read that book I gave you?"

"That's it," Peeta said, standing up abruptly. "_I quit._"

**This chapter features a little idea I have had in reaction to scenes in "Catching Fire". I recently decided to give it a "one-shot" treatment, but haven't decided whether to publish the result.**


	13. The Big Plan

"The latest poll is in," Coin said. "We are at 30%, tied with Johanna, and the Fifth Wheel Party has 25%. The Victory Party has 10% of the vote, the Reform Party has 3%, and 2% thought the election was cancelled."

"Any news of Peeta?" Snow asked with a subtle smile.

"Finnick and Katniss insist that he has not resigned," Coin said. "But he has not made a single public appearance since his withdrawal from the debate."

"It may not seem we have won, and I will admit I hoped to do better," Snow said, "but mark my words, the results of the election are sealed. The Reform Party is out of the race, even if they can bring their candidate back. Johanna has held her ground, against all odds, but we have proven her followers to be fickle. The Fifth-Wheel Party is thriving on cynicism, but has still fallen well short of posing a threat. Our standing President, meanwhile, is for practical purposes dead last. Most importantly, substantial segments of the population are giving up on the notion that the mediocre majority can or should choose the men who will lead them. Given time, they shall grow many indeed."

"But for now," Coin said, "most still believe, and there are still people capable of rallying them. What shall we do if one of our opponents gets more votes?"

Even as she spoke, she smiled. Snow smiled back. "Come now, Alma," he said, "when have either of us let _technicalities_ get in our way?"

* * *

"So, Gale," Beetee said, "what shall we do today?"

"Well, I've been thinking," Gale said, "maybe, instead of the campaign, or the Games, or trying to please Johanna... we should try to do some governing."

"Hm," Beetee said. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Now this is something," Gale said. "We never changed the tax quotas that were in place before the war, so the Districts have been required to pay just as much in currency and goods. That doesn't take into account that some Districts that were wealthy, like Two, are still recovering from the war, while others, like Three and even Twelve, have actually gotten stronger. No wonder we've been having so many budget shortfalls. And it's really a double whammy for the Districts that are worse off, because anything they pay in levies is not going into rebuilding. So, the first thing that needs to happen is, the quotas get adjusted to current economic conditions. Then, we establish a credit program. If a District needs money for economic development, we can take that amount off the quota. We could offer the same deal if a loan is made to another District. We might even try a system of matching funds..."

"You know, Gale," Beetee said, "you really are good at this."

"Yes," Gale said, "I should have tried it sooner..."

"Hi, honey," Johanna said sweetly as she entered with Gale's lunch. "Well, what's this?"

"We're governing," Gale said, pausing to give her an absent-minded peck on the cheek.

"Fun!" Jo said. "Can I help?"

"Hm," said Beetee, "can you?"

"No, no," Gale said, "we want to keep the old Peacekeepers in service. We make them stay. Letting them go isn't just wasting their skills and experience, it's throwing matches in a coal mine. Sure, we don't just let them go straight back to their old jobs. But even if we never let them on active duty again, we have plenty of work for them to do: Battlefield cleanup, which they owe us. Support staff. Instructors, to train our people. In the meantime, they should have all privileges of citizenship, including the uncontested right to vote."

"Gale," Jo said, "the Peacekeepers are Snow's power base. If you let them vote, it could lose us the election."

"Not if the Peacekeepers vote for us," Gale said. He pondered for a moment. "You know... I think I could get to like this."


	14. Revival

Peeta, Katniss and Caesar Flickerman sat together in the intimate space of a District 12 cabin. "It was never my intention to resign," Peeta said. "But I was tired of pretending that the tyrant who tortured me and killed my family is an honorable opponent in a civil debate. I think he did what he did because he's tired of pretenses, too. If he does win, it won't be a new leaf, it will be the last straw that makes people give up on trying to make real change. That's why I'm staying in the race- because he only wins if good people quit trying."

"Quite understandable," Caesar said. "Was your decision to have this interview influenced by President Hawthorne's announcement of a reconstruction plan?"

"Yes, actually, I would like to comment on the plan," Peeta said. "I think the plan is exactly what Panem needs. It's the kind of planning and leadership I always knew Gale was capable of, and I'm only disappointed that it didn't come much sooner."

"You sound almost like you are endorsing your opponent," Caesar said.

"I'm not taking back anything I've said," Peeta said. "I don't believe he belongs in the presidency, but I don't want good ideas to go to waste."

"Do either of you wish to say anything in response to Snow's comments?" Caesar asked.

Katniss blushed, but spoke anyway. "Well, the main thing I'd say is, even Snow never knew everything," she said. "The only other thing I have to say is, there's a lot of things we're _still _learning to talk to each other about. If either of us had the wrong idea, it's my fault. I hope that makes sense, because there's no way I'm saying any more."

"It makes more than enough sense," Caesar said. "I'm sure I can speak for all of Panem when I say, we wish you the best of luck."

"Not me," Snow said as he changed the channel. His mood did not improve when he saw Johanna.

"Oh, it's a great plan, brilliant, really," Johanna said. "It's like I've been saying all along, my husband is gorgeous and a genius. Of course, I helped a bit... Mostly moral support, really." She stretched, and a strategic blur filled half the screen.

"How bad is it?" Snow said.

"The latest poll shows a dead heat between Gale, Johanna and us, at 25% of the vote each," Coin said. "The Reform Party and the Fifth-Wheelers have 10% each, but Peeta is certain to continue to rally. The remainder are 4% undecided and 1% who wondered when their free pepperoni Peeta would arrive. I would add, our party would be considerably worse off without Gale's own intiative to restore the vote to all Peacekeepers, yet a large minority of them indicate that they would vote for Gale."

"I can put them back in line easily enough," Snow said.

"Actually, Cornelius, I do not see any need for any particular action," Coin said calmly. "Even if we make no further gains, we can easily win as long as we do not lose votes to Peeta. Of course, we should still do our best to gain any votes we can, but the time for any dramatic measures has passed. The best move on our part is to show ourselves as confident in the loyalty of our core supporters."

"No!" Snow snarled. "It's not enough. I'm not going to lose this election, oh no, but I'm not going to win simply because a brat thought it would be amusing to run against her lover. It's not going to be close, or even within 10%. It's going to be a _landslide_."

"Cornelius," Coin said coldly, "Whatever you are planning, I will not have any part of it."

Snow looked at her with slitted eyes and a serene smile. "Would you care to be against it?"

Coin pondered a moment. "No."

Within an hour, scores of men in clown suits were roaming the streets of the Capital, papering walls and cars and the occasional concerned bystander with stickers bearing a simple message: VOTE OR DON'T.


	15. Vote Or Don't

"It's less than twelve hours to election day, and I can only describe the scene in the Capitol as chaos," the female reporter said. "Costumed men, clearly partisans of the Centrist Party, are everywhere, openly destroying campaign signs and attacking activists for rival political parties as well as indiscriminately disrupting travel and commerce. Only the Fifth-Wheel Party has been left _relatively_ unmolested. All I can say is, candidate Coin- Ow!"

A huge man in a clown suit smacked the reporter across the head sith a rubber bladder on a stick and dragged her away by the hair. A companion pointed to the camera and said, "Beep, beep, mother-"

Gale turned off the TV. "So it's come to this," he said. He turned to Beetee. "What's the situation with the police?"

"Arrests are being made," he said, "but not enough. For the most part, the police are trying not to intervene. In fairness, when they have tried to stop these clowns, it usually just makes things worse. We still have the option of calling in the army."

"No," Gale said. "That would be martial law, and you can't have a free election with armed men on the ground. The best we can do now is try to secure the polling places in advance, and get ready for our appearance in the park. It might be enough."

By agreement, the candidates and their supporters gathered for a final, televised rally in the Capitol's huge Presidential Park. Snow's clowns could be seen wandering around, occasionally taking pictures with overly bright flashbulbs, but they made a show of not interfering with the other parties and intercepting a few people who looked ready to start serious trouble. People moved about freely, and the candidates and their representatives made appearances at each other's rallies to debate each other.

Gale had a large stage prepared in the center of the park, but the crowd that gathered was patchy, and people could be seen wandering away as quickly as they wandered in. The largest crowd gathered around the stage prepared for the Centrist Party, and nearly as many gathered around a lakeside gazebo where the Fifth-Wheel candidates lurked. As sunset approached and passed, Gale went to a scheduled debate on the Centrist stage, and Beetee wandered off somewhere, leaving Beetee and their campaign manager Paylor at the mercy of a visit from Johanna.

"I just want to say, it's great to see all you beautiful people!" Jo said. "It's good to see the rest of you, too! Now, I feel like making myself comfortable..." There were cheers and whistles as she reached her hands behind her head, and the chorus only subsided a little when she plopped down in a bean bag chair.

"To be sure, your reconstruction plan is sound enough," Snow said. "But it is really not much more than broad strokes, and as any experienced statesman knows, 90% of policymaking is in details..."

From the direction of the lake came strains of music, amplified by a sound system Beetee had rigged up. Katniss was on stage, strumming a ukulele and singing "Hanging Tree". She finished, and loud applause rose from the crowd. "Thank you," she said, smiling and curtsying. She kissed Haymitch on the cheek, and accepted a shot to drink. "I'm really glad to be here, Mitch. You've been a good friend, and I owe you my life, and my husband. I guess we could try to talk politics, but I think what I'd like most is to talk about old times. What do you say?"

"Sounds great," Haymitch said, eying a trio of clowns near the foot of the gazebo.

"Mrs. Hawthorne," Beetee said, "can you tell me even one contribution you have made to presidential policies?"

"Well..." she said, pondering. She pondered some more. "Say, Paylonr, where'd you get your boots?"

"Why not face facts, Mr. Hawthorne?" Snow said. "No doubt, you are a very intelligent and resourceful young man. You might even have the raw material of a President. But it is not a President that I see before me. It is a semi-educated adolescent who happened to have just enough wits and luck to push his way into my office! So why not spare everyone the trouble and just resign?"

Gale's eyes hardened. "You told me I shouldn't," he said. "Before I thought of holding an election, I talked to you, and Alma, and Beetee. She said I should resign, you said no. Then you talked about how it was natural for me to wonder if I deserved to be president. Were you actually hoping I would let you out just to run against you?"

"The thought crossed my mind," Snow said. "But I didn't think even you were _that _crazy." Their eyes locked, and they stared down each other, until Gale looked away at a sudden commotion from the direction of the gazebo.

"Well," Coin said, "it appears we have a riot."


	16. Rocking the Vote

Twenty minutes before a mob of thousands stormed for the Centrist Party stage, Haymitch Abernathy produced a big scrapbook. "Katniss, Peeta and I all made this together," he said with uncharacteristic good cheer. "It's about the people from District 12, mostly our... Tributes. It was hard to find photos of anyone else."

He opened to the first page. "This is Jorga Rayne, my mentor. She won in the First Quell, the time we had to vote who to send. This is the boy she went with, Jordan. She was a merchant's daughter, he was from the Seam. Jorga told me a lot about him. Once, she told me they had had a thing, but her parents had already made arrangements for her to marry another merchant's son, name of Jan Donner. Jordan died getting her out of the bloodbath alive. After she won, she broke off her engagement, which back then meant she couldn't marry at all.

"These are the other Tributes who went with me. Jack and Gwen didn't make it out of the bloodbath, but Maysilee Donner lasted to the very end, and we teamed up for a while. She was Jan's daughter... funny coincidence. She had a lot of spirit, and another thing was, she loved birds. She would watch this beautiful little pink birds that were all over the arena. Just before we split up, she pointed to a bunch of them that had gotten together. She wanted to take a closer look, but I told her it could be dangerous. I think, after, she went back, and I heard her scream... the birds got her."

He turned the page, dry-eyed. "These were the first Tributes I trained: Rory Victor and Madge Jensen. Madge was the best Tribute I ever trained, and smart enough not to let the judges notice. The Career pack hunted her down by the first sunset."

He went on, and on, and on, until he reached Katniss and Peeta. "I knew even before the Reaping, Peeta had the bug for Katniss," he said. "I told him that right off the bat, and he denied it. I had to talk him into giving Caesar the story, and even then, he wouldn't admit what he really felt. He said, point-blank, that the one thing he would be good for was dying to keep Katniss alive."

He smiled at Katniss. "Then we had this girl. I knew she had spirit, even more than Maysilee, but she kept it bottled up. I did what I could to let it show. Now, how about you talk for a while..." He was starting to tear up.

Katniss talked about her friends. Most of them were represented only by small artifacts, as photos had either never existed or been destroyed with the District. She spent a lot of time talking about Prim, until finally, she closed the book.

"Prim died on the last day of the war," she said. "Coin had sent her to the front as a medic, even though she was barely fourteen. She went to help children trapped in a school, and a hovercraft came out of nowhere and bombed it flat. Funny thing was, Gale and Jo had already blown up the last airbase the Capitol had." She looked toward the Centrist stage, and said one word: _"Murderers."_

There was silence, at first, and nothing might have come of it, if a Capitol matron in the midst of the crowd had not stood up and echoed: "Murderers." The word rippled through the crowd, as eyes turned to the clowns who were trying to edge their way away.

"Hey," a skinny clown said, waving his hands as a dozen butly ex-miners made their way in from the crowd, "we're just the hired help!" The miners charged, and there were fisticuffs accompanied by comedic beeping.

"If you don't mind the interruption," Paylor said, "it appears that there is an angry mob on the move, and they appear to be after either the ex-Presidents or your husband."

"Well, um," Johanna said. She pondered for a moment, and then threw up her hands with a happy shout: "Rock the vote, everybody!"

"Okay," Beetee called out from the foot of the stage, "I've got a rock!"

"Ah, wonderful!" Snow called out with a smile as the mob descended. "The finest tradition of populist upheaval! I wonder, are they here for us, or for you? Ah, and Katniss is in the lead. Mrs. Mellark, is there something I can help you with?"

The crowd already gathered before the stage cautiously parted for the mob. Their advance had been relatively peaceful, leaving nothing worse than a score or so of moderately pummeled clowns. Katniss waved for them to halt, and advanced to the stage alone. "I have something to say," she said as she ascended the stage. She jabbed a finger at Snow. "I'm not going to tell you how to vote tomorrow, but just remember that this man murdered my district, and this woman was ready to share power with him!" She pointed at Coin. "And here's one more thing to think about: Just where did that last bomber come from?" The two ex-Presidents both gave each other sidelong glances.

Snow smiled. "Is that all? If so, you have gone to rather a lot of trouble?"

"It's not all," Katniss said. "We're here to show you, Snow, that we aren't afraid anymore. Not of you, not of your stupid clowns, not of her, and not of him." She pointed at Gale. "If we could overthrow you once, we can do it again, to you and anybody who treats us the way you did." She gazed meaningfully at Gale.

Snow just laughed. "There is a very, very, very old saying, Mrs. Mellark: `He who leads a revolution plows the sea.' If others can overthrow me, they can be overthrown, but how would that be a step toward a functioning government? It is at best a vicious cycle, and at worst a spiral into chaos. Sooner or later, people are going to begin to wonder if it might not be better to stick with those who have at least proven their ability to govern. Now who might offer that? Hm?"

"We don't want your kind of experience," Katniss said. "We never did, and we certainly don't now."

"If you are really so sure about that," Snow said, "then why the mob?"

Gale spoke up. "The mob is what happens when a government does not listen to the people," he said confidently. "That's the reason I'm holding this election, so the people can decide who they want in charge without having to take up arms against each other. Actually, that's not quite right. The real reason I'm holding the election is so I can see the looks on your faces when you're both run out of office, and if that means I get voted out too, I'm going to go out smiling!"

At that, the whole crowd broke into applause, while Snow started to laugh sardonically. Katniss stalked away, and the mob withdrew without dispersing. Gale bowed, and started to descend the stage, when an indifferently-lobbed stone hit him across the ear. "Ow!" he exclaimed. "What was that for?"

"Sorry," Jo said with a smirk, "I just got caught up in the moment."


	17. Landslide

Plutarch stood solemnly with the assembled candidates. "The election results are in," he said gravely. "All figures have been reviewed extensively by a non-partisan committee. My colleague Caesar Flickeman has offered to read the results." Caesar took a seat.

"First, the tally of votes for the Fifth-Wheel Party of Haymitch Abernathy and Allan Ripper is..." Flickerman looked at the paper, and clearly double-checked. "...One."

"For clarification," Beetee said, "that's one percent?"

"No," Caesar said, looking incredulous himself, "that's one_ vote_."

Haymitch and Ripper looked at each other. "Like I'd throw my vote away," Haymitch said.

"The tally for the Centrist Party," Caesar continued, "is 10 percent." Coin screeched, and two guards stepped in to restrain her as she lunged for Snow. He only leaned back, with the hint of a smile on his lips. "For the Reform Party, 31%." Peeta leaned forward, and Katniss moved to his side. Everyone looked expectant. The election go still go to him or either of the Hawthornes.

"For the Johanna Party, the tally is 4%," Caesar read. Jaws dropped. "The tally of votes for the Victory Party is... 55 percent! _Gale Hawthorne is Panem's elected President!_"

Johanna squealed, jumped to her feet and ran to throw her arms around her husband's neck. As all eyes and cameras focused on him, he said the first thing that came to mind: "Oh kaka."

"Gorgeous," Johanna said in her best cajoling tone, pressing her cheek against the office door, "the reporters are waiting for your victory speech. Are you ready to come out?" There was a retching sound in answer. "Can I come in?" A knife bounced off the door.

Gale coasted around the office on his chair. "Gale," Johanna continued, with enough extra sweetness to give a humming bird diabetes, "there's somebody here to talk to you."

One word, neither soft nor loud, froze Gale in his tracks: "Gale." It was Katniss. "Please let me in."

"Are you here to tell me I need to resign because I'm crazy?" Gale called as he scooted for the corner.

"You know I'm not," Katniss said. Gale sighed and got up. He moved a couch that blocked the doors, unlocked them, and looked out.

"There's my gorgeous!" Johanna squealed. She moved to squeeze past him.

"Not you," Gale said. "Just Katniss, and maybe Beetee."

"Okay. I'll just go talk to the reporters..." Johanna walked away, and Katniss entered. When the door was shut, Katniss embraced the President.

"Oh, Gale... I'm glad you're here," she said. Gale looked askance at her. "Come on. I love Peeta more than anyone, but I know him better than anyone. Do you think he's ready for this?"

"No," Gale said with a shake of his head, "but he could be." They sat down on the couch. "He's a natual leader. I was planning to ask him to join my cabinet, if he didn't win."

"Peeta would have done the same for you," Katniss said.

"Katniss," Gale said, "do you think we could ever have been together?"

"No," she said, "I never wanted you, and I always knew you would find someone better."

"Do you think I'm ready to be president?"

"No. I think it's like being married. Nobody's ever ready. But if you know you aren't ready, then you've got a chance." Gale smiled and put his arm around her.

"Katniss... Do you think I _should_ _have _resigned?"

"Gale, if you had done that six months ago, I would have said it was for the best, and I'm sure no one would have thought less of you for it. Back then, you were just a boy trying to do a job nobody asked you to do. But things are different now. You showed us you could lead. Hells, you showed us you can stand up to Johanna, and that's impressive enough. Most of all, you showed me that you still believe in what we fought for, because you were willing to let us choose whether to follow you or someone else. If you resign now, if you don't lead because a democratic majority wants you to lead, that's when people start wondering if the rebellion was worth it." Gale nodded, smiled, and followed Katniss out.

The cheers of the crowd could still be heard as Gale returned to the office, smiling hopefully. "Ninety minutes," a familiar voice spoke from the shadows. Gale cried out and drew his pistol. He fumbled for the light, but a desk lamp came on first, revealing Snow seated at the desk.

"You're supposed to be back in the greenhouse!" Gale said.

"Yes, and rest assured, I will return there soon enough," Snow said. "I will even show you the secret passage I used to get here. It is all well and good to be able to come and go from one's prison at will, but actually doing so is simply unsporting. Now, as I was saying, ninety minutes... is what it would take for me to retake my place, and put you somewhere far more interesting."


	18. Counting Coup

"I ought to shoot you right here," Gale said, keeping his gun trained on ex-President Snow.

"But you won't, because... I suppose you could say because it would ruin a perfectly good chair. But is there ever really a reason?" Snow said. "Why didn't I have Katniss killed as soon as she returned from the Games? Why didn't you shoot off a few `stray' bullets to make sure Peeta never left my dungeon? Men like us just don't. If we have any kind of a reason, it is simply because we can only enjoy what we have as long as there are enemies who would and could take it from us. And then, sometimes, today's enemy can prove to be tomorrow's asset, especially if the time comes when one wishes to move on."

Gale smiled. "Of course. You don't want to be back in power. That's why you threw the election."

"Oh, don't imagine that that I was not trying to win," Snow said. "My ennui has never been nearly so bad as that. But you could say that I hedged my bets. I chose to gamble on a strategy of gross gerrymandering to intimidate and disillusion the populace, with no foreseeable outcomes but overwhelming victory or equally overwhelming defeat. Who is to say that it could not have gone either way? I took this risk, because Alma and I already had a contingency plan: Carry out our rule by controlling the candidate who did win."

"Never," Gale said. "I'd sooner die."

"So you say, yet you do not shoot. Peeta, you know, would have shot me dead before I turned on the light. He is mad, you know, even more than you, even apart from what we did to him," Snow said. "But you do not shoot because you are intelligent enough to realize that what I propose would, to a large extent, merely be formalizing our previous arrangements. Think how often you have sought my council and Alma's, and you have only begun to count the ways we have guided your rule."

"Beetee," Gale said. "He's spent more time with you and Alma than anyone... He's working with you! I bet half the things he's presented to me have come from you two!"

"Actually, for the most part, he has simply practiced his proposals for us," Snow said. "More often than not, we have been able to offer a few refinements, but probably nothing he could not have worked out for himself soon enough. We did frequently discuss policy, and on occasion we made our own proposals. Actually, one of them was a plan substantially the same as your reconstruction proposal, though Beetee says that you were able to arrive at the major points on your own."

"Waitaminute," Gale said, lowering his weapon, "are you saying you want my plan to go through?"

"A good idea is a good idea, which is why reasonably intelligent men tend to arrive at the same ideas," Snow said. "I have already shown Beetee some ideas about how to make it workable, and accepted by the masses. If it comes to that, I can pull a few strings to get it passed."

"So why did you come to me now?"

"Actually, I came to discuss a matter of a more personal nature," Snow said. "I think now is the ideal time for the public trial and execution of Alma and myself. Nothing hasty, but within six months. I have given a good deal of thought to arrangements for my demise, and I can show you how to make it both dramatic and convincing. Once we are officially dead, I think you will agree, it will be much easier to make arrangements. I once heard a saying... `The best way to rule is in secret.'"

"Here's an idea," Gale said, "how about we make it for real?" But he made no move as Snow departed through a door that opened in the wall.


	19. The New Guy

"I must say, the executions went smashingly well," Snow said. "Excellent shooting by Katniss, as always. The laugh was a nice touch."

Gale looked shaken as he watched the footage. "So, I guess Peeta wasn't as crazy as people thought," he said. "You can replace people with Muttations."

Snow snorted. "If only it had been that simple... Faking a death was the only truly practical application ever developed for the technology, and even then we preferred to use computer-generated footage to simulate our cover story and produce the mutilated Mutt carcass strictly for corroboration. Actual replacement never went beyond sporadic and purely theoretical research, which actually did include replication of Katniss Everdeen."

Gale looked sternly at Snow. "Did it work?"

Snow laughed. "You might say it worked too well," he said, continuing to chuckle. "Most attempts to endow a Mutt with a real human's personality could only pass as a vegetable or a raving lunatic, and in many ways that is a best case scenario. But this time, we actually managed to reproduce at least a certain essence of Katniss's personality, only rather... more so." Gale laughed himself. "I see you understand. What good is it to make a duplicate if it is even more troublesome than the original? But it was not a total loss. We showed the results to Mr. Mellark, and that was what truly broke his mind."

"I did what you asked," Gale said. "You're dead. Now what?"

Snow pondered. "For the moment, your course for Panem is entirely satisfactory," he said. "In fact, it seems to me that you have been doing quite well without my help."

"Maybe too well?" Gale said, with a dark tone but a hint of a smile.

"Perhaps," Snow said. "But I see no reason to be worried. I expect Johanna will supply a distraction soon enough..."

As if on cue, a rapping came at the door of the Presidential mansion's secret sub-basement's secret room. "Gale! Gorgeous!" Johanna said, letting herself in. "I have big, big, _big_ news!"

"Jojo," Gale said, "I told you, don't walk in on me when I'm with... Hang on. How big?"

"My hair dresser got her license back!" Gale breathed a sigh of relief.

Another day, another meeting. Gale Hawthorne, Beetee and ex-Prestidents Snow and Coin surveyed a raft of proposals from the Veterans' Affairs Committee, chaired by Peeta Mellark. Beetee took a look at one particular proposal, gave his usual vaguely interested "hm", and handed it to Gale.

"This is interesting," Gale said. "We have here a petition for a public works project to build a memorial on the site of Coin's final bombing raid- specifically a statue of Primrose Everdeen. Several veterans' groups from both sides have offered to pay for it entirely with donation drives."

"I think it's a fine idea," Snow said.

"I don't see how anyone could vote against it," Coin said.

Gale pondered a moment. "I don't agree," he said. "I don't believe the public needs more reminders of the rebellion. Besides, it's practically impossible to build a memorial without something else getting into it. Like, say, reminding people who was responsible. I think it would be better to designate the site as a public park... `Primrose Park', we can call it. Johanna and I can pay for it. There will be a garden, and places for children to play, but nothing about what happened there. I think it's what Prim would have wanted. As for the veterans, I think I'll contact them privately, thank them for their offer, and suggest that they use their donations for local charity, like scholarships for medical students."

There was a moment of cool silence. "Yes... that is also a fine idea," Alma said. "Now, there is another matter to discuss: Your reelection campaign. You are already more than halfway through your first year as elected president, which leaves three years at most to prepare for your campaign. It will be even more important to lay the groundwork for establishing a stable two-party system..."

For a moment, Gale looked simply puzzled. "Oh, but I'm not going to run for reelection," he said, almost absent-mindedly. "Actually, I plan to petition the Senate to reinstate Presidential term limits. I'm thinking, I can save that for my second inaugural. Now, I need to go run Jo to her hairdresser." He hustled out.

"Now this is a new leaf," Coin said gravely.

"Yes," Snow said, "it's a good thing we have the chance to nip it in the bud. Beetee, I do believe it's time to roll out the beta."

Beetee sighed and opened a secret control panel. A hole opened in the floor, and a platform rose up from the secret sub-subbasement. On it was a perfect, dashing likeness of Gale Hawthorne. The double looked about, gave a smile that would have made half the preteen girls in Panem faint, and said in a devastatingly velvety voice: "Binky blinky boot!"

"Well," Coin said, "I can't tell the difference."


	20. Lame Duck

The end of Gale's first year as elected President was fast approaching. Gale sat in his office, looked over notes for his inaugural speech. "Oh, Gale," Johanna called out from the door, "I have big, big, big news!"

"What is it, honey?" Gale asked. When she said nothing, he looked up. Jo had her hands lowered to her abdomen, and when he looked at her she pantomimed a swelling balloon. "Oh."

"Gale, gorgeous," Jo said, rapping on the locked and barricaded door, "can you open the door honey? I bet I can make it worth your while..."

Beetee hurried down the hall. "It's happened," he said in an ear piece. "Time to make our move."

"There's my gorgeous!" Jo said as the door opened. Her husband lifted her from her feet with his embrace and gave her a passionate kiss. "Now, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"The sea was full of angry monkeys," Gale said in his perfect voice.

"I know," Jo said, leading him down the hall, "I'm so happy!"

In the secret sub-sub-basement, Gale sat tied to a chair, watching his double follow his wife to the bedroom. Tears streamed from his eyes, but there was defiance on his face and in his voice. "So you replaced me!" he snarled. "You did it! So what's the point of this, torture? If you're going to kill me go ahead and kill me! You should have the decency to do it!" He shot a look at Beetee, fidgetting in a corner.

"We don't wish for any of this," Coin said. "But we simply cannot allow you continue with your course of action! We already have a perfect arrangement. Panem is thriving, you are happy. Why throw it away? Even now, we would like nothing better than to let you return to your office and your wife- once you agree to our terms."

"Yes," Snow said, "our double still leaves a good deal to be desired..."

"The gostak distims the doshes," the double said, "and the gostak is distimmer of the doshes."

"Exactly, and that's just what I told Helena," Jo said.

They entered the bedroom, and the double jumped on the bed. "Banana dog fig face, banana dog fig face," he panted, and added with a flourish, "Hosanna!"

"Hold your horses," Jo said patiently, with her voice a little muffled. She stepped into the bedroom carrying a mace and wearing a negligee, chain mail and a welding mask. "How'd you like to go to the fun room?"

"Fun room?" Snow and Coin exclaimed simultaneously.

"Oh no," Gale said with quavering voice, "not the fun room!"

"Fun fun fun!" the double shouted, clapping his hands. Johanna pulled a book on one of the shelves, and a door opened to a secret chamber.

"Oh," Beetee said, "that room." He pushed a few buttons, and a blank screen came on, revealing a small chamber with functional-looking furnishings in the dungeon theme.

"You put a secret camera in the fun room?" Gale exclaimed.

"Hm. Actually, Johanna asked me to," Beetee said.

Jo led the double by the hand to the largest item in the room, an iron maiden. "Now this will be really fun," she said, opening the two valves. The insides bristled with spikes.

"Oh boy oh boy!" The double dashed inside. Johanna shut the valves and locked them.

"Jo?" the double said plaintively, tapping on the inside of the iron casing. "Jo? Jojo?"

Johanna leaed against the iron maiden, pouting. "Like Gale would ever want to do anything fun."


End file.
